


Farewell By Dawn

by Talullah



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 21:00:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12590432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/pseuds/Talullah
Summary: Gil-galad's last morning home.





	Farewell By Dawn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [red_lasbelin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_lasbelin/gifts).



> This was written for Red Lasbelin, who asked for "Hey That's No Way To Say Goodbye" with Glorfindel when I offered to write something inspired by Leonard Cohen’s songs on the occasion of his death.
> 
> [Disclaimer/Blanket Statement](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/profile)

**Harlond, 3431 Second Age**

Gil-galad woke with a start. He felt in his bones that the time had come. At any minute someone would knock on the door telling him it was time to go. And yet, it was still dark outside. He had chosen not to ride out at the brink of dawn, although it would certainly be expected and a good decision, logistically. Yet, he wanted his men to have a little more time with their families. Some might not return, and wouldn't it be a shame if their sleeping children missed their last goodbye.

He cursed himself. War was dire and it chewed and spit anything that got in its way. Yet, there he was, about to enter one that had been brought to his door. Like Círdan said, you have to stand for something… but he knew the cost would be devastating.

By his side, Glorfindel stirred. Gil-galad kept very still, trying not to wake him. He listened to the crickets outside, and to the first rooster, trying to concentrate on just that – the cool darkness of the room, the sounds of dawn, and the warmth coming from Glorfindel’s body.

“I know you are awake,” Glorfindel mumbled.

Gil-galad turned to his side and snuggled against his lover. They both waited, in silence and after a while Glorfindel’s breathing became deeper. Gil-galad slumbered too, lulled by the soft rhythm.

The first light of dawn seeped delicately through the lace curtains when they woke again. Glorfindel turned to face Gil-galad.

“Good morning,” he said, kissing him deeply. The taste of sleep in their mouths did not bother them. Waking beside each other always felt like a blessing, one that had come at a heavy cost.

“Good morning,” Gil-galad replied, when their lips parted. He nuzzled Glorfindel’s hair, spread upon the pillow like a sleepy golden storm, enjoying the subtle erotic pleasure of lying together naked, warm, still sated from the night before but already stirring with desire tinged with loss.

Glorfindel turned on his back and yawned, stretching lightly.

“What was that?” he asked, turning again to Gil-galad. “Again those dreams you refuse to tell me about?”

Gil-galad did not reply immediately. The moment was so sweet, so slow, and possibly his last in Glorfindel’s arms for many years to come.

But Glorfindel knew him too well. “I know you dream of your own death,” he said.

Taking Gil-galad’s hand in his, he pleaded, “Let me go with you. I know, I know you need someone here you can trust and who can keep order and safety for however long you are away.”

“And a contingency plan in case he wins and marches north. Someone has to stay and you are my best.”

“Elrond is amazing.”

“He is good but he has his own people to take care of and that special trinket you know of to protect. And the same applies to Círdan, before you come to him.”

Glorfindel sighed deeply. “How many times have we had this argument?”

“Too many,” Gil-galad answered, smiling. “Darling,” he said pulling Glorfindel closer. They kissed. “You know my love goes with you as your love stays with me.”

Glorfindel smiled. “Very poetic. If I had not heard that young minstrel declaiming it last week, I would have thought you were about to spring wings.”

“Wings would be nice. I could glide over the walls of Barad-dûr and jam Aeglos down Sauron’s throat.”

Glorfindel playfully fondled him beneath the covers. “As long as you mean your spear. I mean your other spear.”

Both chuckled and kissed, before Glorfindel pulled back. “I love you,” he said, gazing into Gil-galad’s eyes, as if scrutinizing.

“And I you, forever.”

For a moment, Glorfindel’s eyes glistened too bright.

“Come on,” Gil-galad whispered. “Come on, darling, no crying.”

Glorfindel sniffed, undignified. “I know, both of us must try and I hate myself for making this harder on you, but I can’t… I can’t.”

Gil-galad bit his lip, giving a moment, for both of them to breathe. “I would not feel loved if you were cool and collected about this thing. People of my family do have a tendency to die in battle.”

The joke did not land well, but Gil-galad did not expected it to. Glorfindel closed his eyes for a moment.

“Want to make love one more time?” he asked at length.

Gil-galad nuzzled his ear. “I would love to, darling, but I think neither of us is in the right mood. And the way you put it is not the most inviting, you know.”

Glorfindel snorted. “An invitation with gold lettering would be nicer, I agree.”

In reply, Gil-galad punched him lightly in the arm.

“Come on,” he said, rising from the bed. The day is getting brighter and sooner or later someone will knock on the door. Besides, that’s no way to say goodbye, the both of us whining and sniffling.”

Glorfindel threw a pillow at him but, like Gil-galad’s previous attempts of humour, it failed to ignite. They did not laugh, they did not have a pillow fight, they did not end up making love.

Instead, Glorfindel rose from the bed and walked to Gil-galad, embracing him for a long time.

“Will you dress me today?” Gil-galad asked, at length. To his courtesans’ chagrin, he more often than not dispensed with the expected formalities of life in a court. The titles and positions existed but the chamberlain had long resigned to the notion that he would only be of use in important days. And this was an important day.

Glorfindel took a shirt from the rack and held it behind Gil-galad, so that he could slip his arms in. He deposited a kiss at the nape of his lover’s neck, and reached out for the uniform trousers. Someone knocked on the door but they ignored it. At the second instance, Gil-galad said that he would be ready in a few minutes and they heard footsteps waking away. Glorfindel did not say a word about the need for discretion or how he should have been gone for hours. It was another conversation that they had had multiple times.

As Glorfindel layered clothes on his lover, then the pieces of light armour used for travelling, the thick, sad silence grew into solemnity. When they finished, Glorfindel stood, almost naked, before Gil-galad.

They stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment. No words felt right. They heard the movement outside, the troops gathering and assembling in the courtyard outside. They heard the courtiers hurrying and speaking in hushed voices outside on the corridor. They heard their own heartbeats growing louder.

Finally, Gil-galad leaned forward and kissed Glorfindel on the lips, then the cheek.

“See you soon,” he whispered.

Glorfindel swallowed the know in his throat, but still could not reply, except for a nod.

Gil-galad straightened his back and turned away, walking in his martial stride toward the door. Glorfindel knew the time for goodbyes was over now. Standing in the middle of the room, he could see in his mind Gil-galad, the king, not his lover, walking down the hall, making questions, issuing orders, making the world turn. In his bones, he knew it would be a long time before they saw each other again but he accepted it, understood it. Had he not done the same in times past? Whatever fearful romanticism had submerged him, was displaced by pragmatism. He was left in charge – what was he still doing, standing half-dressed in the king’s bedroom?

He gathered his clothes, dressed and left through the hidden door. On his way, he stopped by his room to change to a different jerkin, checked for messages on the office, grabbed a sweet roll and tea in the kitchen, and arrived at the courtyard just in time to hear the horns blowing and wave at the departing army, lost in the crowd with everyone else.

When Gil returned, he would not find a straw out of place, Glorfindel vowed. If he returned.

_Finis  
October 2017_


End file.
